sherry aged barrels {whiskey/sinead}
Oct 7, 2021 20:38:02 GMT -5
Post by bailee on Oct 7, 2021 20:38:02 GMT -5
When she was younger, she remembered the days where the haze of pollution ran so low in the horizon that sometimes school would get cancelled. They used to call those days the "dirty sky days", and all the kids would gather in the town centre throwing caution to the wind and play on, ignoring the old ladies who urged them to spend the days indoors.
And each year, without fail, someone's dad would lose a long-fought battle to lung cancer, their viscera lined with the smog and coal residue from spending their days and nights in the coal mines.
Sinead had never knew anything different until now. Her favourite time always arose around lunchtime, where she would grab her plate of food and wander out to the balcony and listen to the hum of the forcefield surrounding the training centre mixed with the bustling city life below. It would be so peaceful - her lungs would breathe in the fresh air of the Capitol and finally feel free of the toxins running through her lungs.
Until today, where she discovered she had company.
She had heard rumours of the boy from seven - particularly surrounding the spar versus Nylon Gingham, in which he decimated her without her getting in barely any moves edgewise. And she knew Nylon - she was strong and fierce, and she couldn't imagine her not giving a solid fight.
Whiskey Finch was someone she wanted to get on her good side, she knew for sure.
She waltzed up to the boy on the balcony, clearing her throat. "The spar," she blurted, looking up at the boy with curious eyes, "is it true? What everyone's saying about it."
She leaned up against the balcony and looked out towards the city, breathing in the fresh autumn air. "You finished off the career from one in three hits?"
And each year, without fail, someone's dad would lose a long-fought battle to lung cancer, their viscera lined with the smog and coal residue from spending their days and nights in the coal mines.
Sinead had never knew anything different until now. Her favourite time always arose around lunchtime, where she would grab her plate of food and wander out to the balcony and listen to the hum of the forcefield surrounding the training centre mixed with the bustling city life below. It would be so peaceful - her lungs would breathe in the fresh air of the Capitol and finally feel free of the toxins running through her lungs.
Until today, where she discovered she had company.
She had heard rumours of the boy from seven - particularly surrounding the spar versus Nylon Gingham, in which he decimated her without her getting in barely any moves edgewise. And she knew Nylon - she was strong and fierce, and she couldn't imagine her not giving a solid fight.
Whiskey Finch was someone she wanted to get on her good side, she knew for sure.
She waltzed up to the boy on the balcony, clearing her throat. "The spar," she blurted, looking up at the boy with curious eyes, "is it true? What everyone's saying about it."
She leaned up against the balcony and looked out towards the city, breathing in the fresh autumn air. "You finished off the career from one in three hits?"
